Solitude
by TheRealRenee
Summary: // Chapter 12 now up \\ Christian agonizes over his unspeakable actions against the one person he loves more than anyone else. Trish/Christian, Jericho/?. Spoiler: RAW, February 23, 2004
1. Default Chapter

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He tore at his short blond hair as he made his way backstage, his gut clenching uncomfortably. He felt sick as he thought about what had just happened mere moments ago... About what *he* had done... 

Christian cursed himself aloud, hating the turn he'd taken in his life. His world was literally collapsing around him. His best friend, Chris Jericho, had been steadily drifting away from him - not that he could blame Y2J for that, as he had good reasons for it. 

And then, of course, there was *her*... 

The blond man was surprised to discover he was actually near tears as he thought about her, about what he'd done to her a few minutes earlier. 

He'd really lost it... He'd acted out of sheer passion, snapping past his limit. The rage over the rejection he'd felt from both his friend and the young woman had finally reached the boiling point. And he'd done the unthinkable... 

Christian swallowed hard, catching a glance at his reflection as he stepped into his locker room. Damn it, he hated himself at that very moment. He hated what he'd become. Over the course of the last four and a half months, he'd grown so bitter... extremely bitter and full of hatred. He hated Chris for taking her - for taking her *away* from *him*. And he hated *her* for falling for the other man. 

Shit... As these thoughts whirled through his mind, he realized that he didn't really hate *her* - he *couldn't*. But by God, she owed him some answers, some explanations. More importantly, however, *he* owed *her* an apology and explanation. He hadn't meant to hurt her, not really. And he despised himself for having done just that. 

His mind made up, the blond Canadian exited his locker room, his mind set on one thing and one thing only. He needed to see her. 

Forgoing the women's locker room, Christian headed directly for the trainer's room, knowing full well she'd be there. He knew he'd hurt the diva after that vicious clothesline and later applying the Walls of Jericho. 

Sheepishly, he ducked into the trainer's room, wincing as he caught sight of her. She made a sound that signified how much pain she was in, and he cursed himself tenfold. 

Her eyes were squeezed shut as the trainer was helping her off the examining table, the diva moaning in agony. And then, as he tentatively stepped further into the room, the woman opened her eyes and finally caught sight of him. 

Fear and sadness seemed to cross her lovely features for a split second before anger made way. Her brown eyes widened as she reacted to him. 

"What do you want?!" she demanded, her tone brittle and icy. "To finish the job?" 

Christian flinched, though he didn't blame her for her furious attitude toward him. Lord knew he deserved it. Hell, he deserved a lot worse. 

"Trish, please... Let me explain..." he practically begged, his blue eyes sad as they fixed on her. 

Trish Stratus glared murderously up at him, incredulous that the man would even have the nerve to come near her after what he'd done. 

"Would you leave us alone - please?" he asked, directing the question to the trainer. The man looked at him warily, then eyed the little blonde questioningly. 

Trish's face was a mask of displeasure as she nodded, signaling to the trainer that it was okay. The man left, leaving her alone with the blond man... The man with whom she had a history that no one even knew about... 

Christian blinked as he looked the tiny blonde over, noting with dismay the way she held one hand to her lower back. He'd really sunk in that Walls of Jericho. He'd seen red, and, in his irrational state at the time, all he'd been able to think of was making her hurt as much as *he'd* been hurting for so long. 

"I'm really sorry..." he stammered, his blue eyes on her lovely face. "I know it's not much, but I hope you'll accept my apology." 

The Canadian diva narrowed her eyes, a look of disbelief crossing her features. 

"Sorry? You're *sorry*?!" she cried. "You tried to cripple me out there! You tried to end my career! And you want me to accept your apology?!" 

"Trish, please..." Christian said, nearly choking on his words. "I lost my head... I would *never* mean to hurt you otherwise..." 

"Sure..." the little blonde muttered. "Oh, *sure*..." Her eyes welled up just a bit, but she refused to give in to the tears she felt building. "Of all people to hurt me," she continued, the knife twisting in her heart with every word, "you are the *last* person I would expect, Christian... I can't-" She shook her head, unable to complete the sentence as the emotion got the better of her. Then, recovering, "Look, Christian - I'm sick of you. Sick of your whining, sick of your games, sick of you manipulating Chris, manipulating me... Do me a favor - stay away from me!" Her chocolate- brown eyes glared daggers of fire through him one more time before she pushed past him and stormed out of the room - crying out in pain in the process. 

Christian stared after her, a tear finally coursing its way down his cheek.   
  
  
  


Part 2 

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	2. Chapter 2

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Trish Stratus gritted her teeth in pain as she hobbled her way to her hotel room. She winced with every step, tears threatening to escape her eyes as she gripped her bag more tightly. 

As she entered the room, a soft cry escaped her. She was in absolute agony - and the truth was, the wasn't sure what hurt her more - her back, or her heart... 

Her bag dropped to the floor, but the little blonde didn't care, nor did she kneel over to pick it up. She finally gave in to the sob she'd felt building within her as she stumbled her way to the bed. 

Trish buried her face in the pillows and cried, her throat and stomach hurting. It was as though she were losing him all over again. 

She reflected over the past few months of her life, and how unbelievable it had all been. She hadn't been looking for a relationship, but Chris Jericho had swept her off her feet. Their start had been a rocky one marred by misunderstandings. Shortly afterward, they had managed to forget a friendship, but Trish couldn't help but feel somewhat empty. Somehow, she had fooled herself into believing she was falling in love with Chris... 

...But now that she thought about it, she realized that wasn't the case... 

Her heart hurt. It ached so terribly, she felt that death must be preferable to this pain she was experiencing. And that was when her thoughts focused solely on him. 

Him... He'd always been there, always him... 

The tiny blonde cried even harder as her thoughts rewound to even farther back - nearly four years earlier, to be exact. 

~The night of Backlash - May 2000 + 

Trish winced as she lowered herself from the stretcher. The EMTs had carried her backstage following T&A's match against the Dudley Boyz. She ached, but surprisingly, it wasn't *that* bad, and she declined the offer to be brought to the hospital. Instead, she'd had the trainer look her over before returning to her locker room, which she'd been sharing with Test and Albert. 

At the moment, her team was nowhere to be found. Part of her felt like crap over that, as it seemed they didn't care enough about her to check onher, see if she was okay. At the same time, she was glad she was alone - at least she could shower and change her clothes in peace. 

Tears of pain were pricking just behind her eyelids as the blonde diva grabbed some fresh clothing from her bag. Her back hurt like a bitch as she sat down to go through her stuff. A soft cry left her as she bent over slightly at the waist. 

All of a sudden, she realized there was a knocking at the locker room door. Damn it, who would be coming here *now*? Her only guess was that Test or Albert, or both, wanted into their locker room. 

Mustering every last bit of strength she had, Trish crept across the room to the door, surprise taking over her at the identity of her visitor. 

It was Christian... 

She knew the blond man had already competed earlier in the night, he and his brother Edge having defended their Tag Team championships. But what was he doing here, now? Although the two of them had spoken briefly, in passing a couple of times since she'd first come to the WWF a mere two months earlier, that was it. They didn't exactly have a relationship. 

"Hi..." the Canadian man said softly, a look of tender concern on his face. "I just... Trish, are you okay?" 

She cocked her head to one side as she regarded him almost questioningly. There was such compassion and worry on his handsome face - directed at *her*. Unlike T&A, he seemed to actually care about her well-being. 

"Yeah... I *will* be..." she said softly, but the moment the words left her lips, she winced, hissing in pain. 

"Those damn Dudleys..." Christian snapped, anger replacing the concern on his face. "They had no right to do that to you!" 

Trish gazed up at him through her haze of pain, knowing full well that she *had* deserved being put through a table. After all the crap she'd been putting the Dudleys through, particularly Bubba Ray, she knew she did. But that didn't make her feel any better. 

Christian stepped further into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. He quickly looked Trish over in her skimpy bubblegum pink outfit, but his warm blue eyes again met her brown, and he reached out to place his hands on her shoulders. 

"Listen to me, Trish... the Dudleys won't get away with it." 

The little blonde gazed up into his face with wonder, her lips parting slightly as he moved nearer still. Her pain was forgotten as Christian gently took her in his arms, his lips brushing softly over hers. He kissed her almost shyly at first, until he grew bolder, allowing his tongue to run over her lips before tentatively exploring her mouth. 

Not another word was spoken between them as, when he broke the kiss a moment later, the blond man slowly slipped from the room. 

Trish stood there, a hand snaking up to touch her lips. It all felt so surreal - as though she'd imagined the last few minutes...~   
  
  
  


Part 3 

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	3. Chapter 3

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Christian was restless as he flipped through the channels on the cable TV in his hotel room. He was sitting up in the bed, legs sprawled out before him, his back resting against a pillow he had propped up on the headboard. 

Try as he might, he couldn't seem to distract himself from his thoughts... Thoughts, of course, of *her*... 

Their first night together had been so unexpected, yet so magical. Although they'd shared their first kiss on the night of Backlash four years ago, they hadn't done much else than exchange looks across the wrestling ring whenever he and Edge faced T&A, or in the arena or hotel hallways. Other than that, despite their kiss, they really hadn't interacted much since. 

~August 2000 - the night of SummerSlam 

Christian was trying his best to relax in the hotel room he and Edge were sharing, his body weary after the TLC match from earlier in the night. He was alone, as, despite all the bumps and bruises, his brother had insisted on going out for a night of drinking and clubbing with T&A. 

The thought of the two big men brought to mind their beautiful manager... Trish had to be hurting as well, as she'd been in a match with Val Venis, against Eddy Guerrero and Chyna, for the Intercontinental title at the pay-per-view. The bout had come to an end after the Ninth Wonder of the World had gotten the little blonde all to herself. And Christian knew that, on top of getting a thorough beating by Chyna, Trish had to be getting a lot of slack from Val. The man had definitely not looked happy when he'd lost the IC strap. 

Christian winced as he thought about what the man might have done or might be doing to show the diva his rage over losing the championship. In fact, the more he thought about it, it seemed a good idea to mosey on over to Trish or Val's hotel room to make sure everything was okay. 

His hands clenching into fists as he thought further about the anger on the porn star's face directed at the blonde, he rose and went to the door. He couldn't help it - he was too worried the bastard might be hurting her. 

The blond man stopped as he opened the door, his eyes taking in, with surprise, the sight of the woman of whom his thoughts were so consumed. She was standing right there in the doorway. Apparently, she'd been just about ready to knock when he opened the door. Her chocolate-brown eyes widened slightly in surprise of her own as she looked up into his face. 

"Trish... Hi, I was just about to go to you." 

"You... you were?" the young woman queried, her voice sounding small and almost childlike. 

"Yeah," he admitted, his gaze never wavering from her pretty face. "I wanted to see if you were all right." 

Trish cocked her head as she regarded him silently. She appeared thoughtful for a beat, then reached out to grasp his arm. 

"Can I... come in?" 

"Of course." Christian moved aside to allow the blonde diva entrance into his hotel room. His gaze still remained on her as he closed and locked the door, then made his way over to her. 

"You were saying?" 

The Canadian man ran a hand through his long blond hiar. 

"Yeah, I... I was worried about you," he admitted. "After your match, Val must've been pretty pissed." 

"He was..." Trish admitted. "He spent a good twenty minutes yelling at me for costing him the Intercontinental title, but that was all." Again, she cocked her head to one side as she eyed him, her expression softening. "You were really worried about me?" 

Christian nodded. 

"Yes, I was..." 

The little blonde edged slightly closer to him, the distance between their bodies now mere inches. 

"Wow... *I*..." She looked a small bit shy. "I have to admit - *I* was worried about *you*!" She lowered her head for a beat, biting her lip as she felt Christian's hand on her chin. Her eyes met his incredible blue ones as he tipped up her face. 

"*You* were worried about *me*?" 

She tilted her head, then nodded. The blond man couldn't help but think of her surprising shyness as endearing. 

"You got pretty banged up in the TLC match..." 

"Yeah, that's true... but I'm okay," he replied, his voice nearly a whisper as he felt his lips bring drawn to hers. 

Trish's heartbeat was quickening as she craned her head just enough to meet Christian's halfway, and she nearly lost her breath as he consumed her lips. Their kiss was so intense, and more passionate than their first had been. 

The blond man let out a soft groan as he moved his hands, allowing them to roam over her curvaceous body. Her skin seemed to jump a bit when he touched certain areas, but definitely not in a bad way. 

Trish cried out as one of his hands reached back to grasp her buttock, and she sank further into his touch. God... Ever since Backlash, she'd been unable to stop thinking of him. 

The next thing she knew, Christian had swept her up in his arms, momentarily breaking their kiss as he carried her to the bed. When she was laying on it, their lips met again, and she reached up to tangle her hands into his long golden hair. 

It felt like a dream to the blond man as he rid the diva of her clothing. God, she was beautiful. And when he removed his own garments, with her help, he thought he might just go crazy. 

Trish gasped as she felt Christian enter her, her legs coming up to clasp around his waist. His thrusts were delicious, and before long, she joined him with her own movements. 

"Oh, God... Christian!" She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming, her arms pulling him down to her. As he kissed her, she let out a muffled moan of pleasure. 

"Trish..." The blond man gazed down into her ecstatic face, his own orgasm coming hard and fast. He let himself go within her, his breathing heavy and fast. "God, Trish..." 

Both of them spent, he kissed her again...~   
  
  
  


Part 4 

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	4. Chapter 4

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Trish awoke with a start, the memory of the dream freshly with her as she sat up and gazed through the darkness. 

She pressed a hand to her chest, her breath coming in fast gasps. It had been so vivid, so very real. And that was what terrified her. 

She'd seen Christian in her nocturnal mind's eye. He'd begged her forgiveness - on hands and knees, in fact - but she'd refused, blowing him off like yesterday's trash. They were outside, and he'd walked away - but not before gazing pleadingly into her face, his beautiful blue eyes filled with more sorrow and torment than she'd ever witnessed. 

And then, he'd gone forward, into the busy street. He'd turned to gaze back at her from where she still stood when it had happened - a speeding car had come and struck him... Trish had opened her mouth to scream, but no sound had escaped her. 

She hurried forward, running out into the street, not caring about the traffic or the crowd that had so quickly - *too* quickly - gathered around Christian. 

Tears spattered her cheeks and chin, and the little blonde had knelt over him. He appeared to be unconscious, and very seriously injured, but his eyes fluttered open, and he gazed up at her sadly. Three words somehow managed to escape his bloody lips, the words barely audible - but Trish was able to make them out clearly. 

"I... love... you..." 

Afterward, the blond man's deep blue eyes took on an unseeing quality, his body still and limp. The diva had gasped with the knowledge that he was gone. 

Christian had died...! 

She held her head in her hands, the sobs uncontrollable and wracking her petite body. Although it had only been a dream, it shook Trish to her very core. Never once in her life had a dream been so vivid and real. And never before had a mere dream had such an impact on her. 

She held both hands up to her face, covering her eyes as she continued to cry it all out. She stayed like this, hunched forward, for several more minutes before finally gathering some of her bearings. 

She choked one last stifled sob as she came to the realization - one that gripped her with overwhelming clarity. 

She was still in love with Christian... 

Trish thought about the way things had become for the blond Canadian man over the last few years - particularly since she's ended their relationship. He'd gone on a sort of rampage several months after - when she'd stupidly dropped him for greener pastures. First, he'd turned on his brother, Edge. Trish had never been able to comprehend that, although the taller of the two had gained a great deal of prestige on his own, which apparently had led to Christian becoming consumed by jealousy. Not that she was conceited or anything, but she had no doubt that the sudden change in his demeanor had everything to do with *her*. 

It was her fault... All *her* fault! 

The change in Christian hadn't been a speedy process. It had occurred over time, gradually. And she couldn't blame him for it - not after she'd so coldly, unthinkingly, callously dumped him for the likes of Vince McMahon. She'd been greedy, power- and money-hungry, and what better way to earn the things she wanted the most than to strike up a relationship with the boss? She'd thrown caution and common sense to the wind, not caring that the man was married, or that he had the morals of a sewer rat. None of that had mattered a damn. Hell, *Christian* hadn't mattered anymore to her! 

Trish held a hand up to her chest, the memory of what she'd done, how she'd hurt him, nearly overwhelming. She choked on the recollection of the blond man's pleas - as he'd begged her not to leave him - his blue eyes full of unshed tears. It had destroyed him when she'd refused. *She* had destroyed him... 

The little blonde rose from her hotel bed, realizing she had no choice - she *had* to go to see Christian. She had to talk to him, had to find out a few things and maybe offer him some explanations as well. 

She slipped her robe on, belting it as she located her slippers near the bed. She knew she looked a mess from her crying, but to hell with that. 

Trish departed the room and quickly but quietly made her way down the deserted hallway. She knew Christian's room was on the same floor and had in fact already spotted him entering the room earlier. 

She held her breath, walking on tiptoes as she passed what she knew was Chris Jericho's room, as she definitely didn't want him to know what was up. Although the blond man had an injured knee and had not been at RAW that night, he was still traveling with the company. 

She let out a breath, partly out of relief, as she reached the correct door. The slightest hesitation came over her for a beat, but she sucked it down and raised a hand to knock. 

Trish waited for several minutes, but there was no answer. She wondered if he was upset with her to the point of not accepting any visitors. 

Then, just as she was about to turn away, she heard the door open slowly. 

"Trish?"   
  
  
  


Part 5 

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	5. Chapter 5

{How many times have you told me you love her   
As many times as I've wanted to tell you the truth   
How long have I stood here beside you   
I live through you   
You looked through me 

Ooh, solitude   
Still with me is only you   
Ooh, solitude   
I can't stay away from you...} 

Slowly, her breath catching in her throat, Trish turned back at the sound of his voice issuing her name. 

Christian was standing in the doorway of his hotel room, his blue eyes looking somewhat different than she could ever remember them... They looked sad - as they had for awhile now - but they also looked weary, defeated. Such a look in the beautiful eyes of the man she'd loved for so long made her wince and want to break down. 

"Christian..." she finally spoke, tiniest trace of a smile touching her lips. It nearly overwhelmed her to see him in the flesh, still very much alive and vibrant after the horrid dream from which she'd awoken only moments earlier. She felt as though she could burst into tears of relief. 

They stared at each other for another beat, each battling with his or her own internal feelings. Then, the blond man gestured to her, holding the door open more widely. 

"Come in..." 

She did so, biting her lip as she felt his nearness with him just behind her. She could feel his warm breath on her hair, as though he were smelling it. 

{How many times have I done this to myself   
How long will it take before I see   
When will this hole in my heart be mended   
Who now is left alone but me 

Ooh, solitude   
Forever me and forever you   
Ooh, solitude   
Only you, only true 

Everyone leaves me stranded   
Forgotten, abandoned, left behind   
I can't stay here another night...} 

Christian's breath was nearly taken away as he gazed down into Trish's face. As always, she looked so beautiful, but at the same time, there was a melancholy he'd never detected before in her brown eyes. Plus the fact that those lovely orbs were red-rimmed, and he knew without a doubt that she'd been crying not long ago. He hated himself as he thought it must have had everything to do with him. 

They both started to speak simultaneously. 

"I'm sorry - go ahead." 

The little blonde blinked as she searched his handsome face. 

"I... God, Christian, I just feel awful about everything. I didn't mean to be so harsh, and... I'm so sorry." 

The short-haired Canadian nearly did a double-take. Her words, her apology, were the last thing he would have expected. But something was not quite right... 

"Trish," he began, "what are you talking about? You had every right to be harsh... I'm the one who should apologize... I am so sorry." He shook his head, a lump forming in his throat. "I never wanted to hurt you... I never want to hurt you." 

"I know..." Trish nodded and reached out, gently placing a forefinger on his lips, silencing him. "But I do have to apologize - for everything. I hate what I did to you..." 

{Your secret in my heart   
Who could it be 

Ooh, can't you see   
All along it was me   
How can you be so blind   
As to see right through me 

And ooh, solitude   
Still with me is only you   
Ooh, solitude   
I can't stay away from you   
Ooh, solitude   
Forever me and forever you   
Ooh, solitude   
Only you, only true} 

Christian swallowed hard, the true meaning behind the diva's words crystal clear. She was apologizing for leaving and subsequently hurting him three years past. Then, casting all else aside, the blond man did something he'd been wanting to do for so long... He'd waited for too long to do it again... 

... He kissed her.   
  
  
  


Part 6 

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	6. Chapter 6

"Christian... Christian...!" Trish uttered between kisses with the blond man. God... She could hardly believe she was really here in his hotel room with him, and not still asleep and dreaming. 

She threw her head back, her eyes closed as he trailed kisses from her lips to her jawline and then the base of her throat. Her heart was pounding a million beats per second as she burrowed her hands into his short blond hair, a soft moan escaping her. 

She loved him... She knew for sure now, it was confirmed that she'd always loved him. Christian was a part of her, and she herself had only been half-living when they'd been apart. It was as though she were half of a heart, but he was the other half - her other half. Without him, she hadn't been whole. 

"Trish..." His voice was soft and laced with passion as he gazed down into her brown eyes, his right hand snaking down to the folds of her robe. He slid his hand in, finding soft skin and supple firmness of muscle as he touched her thigh. 

"Christian, please..." Her tone was almost pleading, the expression on her face almost one of pain as she gazed up into his blue eyes. Her body was positively aching for him. She needed him. 

"Oh, God, Trish..." the blond man moaned, his hands coming to tangle into her long hair as he pressed his lips to hers again. Their kiss this time was even longer, more passionate and even a bit wild. 

Christian let out a slightly muffled groan as the diva lightly bit his lip, one of her small hands lowering to the hardness in the sweatpants he'd worn to bed. She cupped and fondled him, her tongue hot and demanding in his mouth. Oh, God... He still loved her, and he wanted her. And damn if those two emotions weren't stronger than anything else, all the reasons why this shouldn't happen. 

Not breaking the kiss for even a second, Christian reached down to fumble with the belted sash of the little blonde woman's robe. In a moment, he had it undone, the silky material slipping from Trish's body as she shrugged out of it. It fell to the floor in a graceful pool of satin. 

Christian pulled away just enough to break the kiss and examine Trish minus her robe. She was a beautiful sight in her small lacy nightgown. But he didn't care about the garment right now. He wanted her out of it. 

The blonde was in his arms in an instant, her head craned enough to meet his lips in another searing kiss, her hands again going to his pants. She tugged on the waistband, figuratively begging him to strip out of them - which, after a beat, he did, as he could hardly stand it any longer. 

Trish reached down and back, grasping the hem of her nightgown, and pulled it up over her head. Christian was practically licking his lips as he drank in all her nude splendor. He couldn't believe this was happening, but more than that that he hadn't seen her naked in so long. 

They were on each other again in an instant, lips meeting fervently. No words were needed as they told one another with tender, passionate actions, how they truly felt. 

Christian lifted Trish up in his arms, her legs coming to clasp around his waist. He reached down to adjust himself, easily slipping inside of her. 

The blonde diva let out a gasp through her teeth as she felt his length, quickly adjusting as the Canadian man carried her, still inside of her, to the bed. 

"Oh, God..." she moaned, her back raising slightly off the mattress as the blond man raised her up, his hands gripping her waist. Christian pumped in and out of her rapidly, and in moments, she was crying out. 

She felt as though she could explode just as he stopped, and she was pracitcally begging for him to continue. Instead, the blond man gently repositioned her, turning her around so that she was on all fours. Trish cried out even louder as she felt him inside of her again, her hands gripping the edges of the bedsheet as she came soon after, her cries louder than ever. She begged for more, and Christian thrust even harder, faster, until he couldn't hold out any longer. 

And this time, they came simultaneously. 

Afterward, they lay spent on the bed, Christian laying his head on Trish's stomach as he held onto her tightly. 

The diva's breathing was still heavy as she rode out of the resolution of her pleasure, her hands caressing the blond man's short hair. Her mind was now working overtime, and she suddenly dreaded what might await them after tonight. 

Part 7 

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	7. Chapter 7

Christian's eyes fluttered open slowly as he awoke, the distinct feel of a body laying beside him - in his arms, in fact. 

Trish... It all came rushing back to him. He'd been unable to sleep, plagued by thoughts of her and of their past. Also, he'd been haunted by his recent actions against her. It had been killing him inside that he'd ever actually hurt her. He'd never wanted to do that, not physically or otherwise. Not to her... Never her. He loved her. She was truly his soulmate. He'd known that for a long time, but last night had confirmed and cemented it. 

At the moment, she appeared to be sound asleep. She looked like an angel, her long blond hair falling in soft wings across her beautiful, peaceful face. Her breathing was deep and regular. 

They were both naked beneath the blanket, and Christian could see their discarded garments just beyond the bed, scattered on the floor. Her delicate robe and nightgown were in a graceful pool, her fancy black slippers about a foot away from them. 

She was in his arms once again - after all this time. A tiny smile crossed Christian's lips as he acknowledged that. And this time, he wasn't going to let her slip away from him. Hell, he wasn't strong enough to let her go even if he tried - not that he wanted to. 

The blond man gazed down into her sleeping face, an urge hitting him. she looked so much like a lovely princess that he couldn't resist. And so, he leaned down and gently placed his lips on hers, kissing her. 

She began to awaken. To Christian, it was just like something out of a fairy tale. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe... 

Trish opened her eyes slowly, a hint of initial disorientation on her face, but then she met his eyes as she turned over. 

And it all came rushing back to her. 

"Ch-Christian?" Her voice was slurred with sleepiness. 

"I'm here, Trish..." 

The little blonde squinted in the slight brightness of the room, the sunlight filtering in through the curtains on the window. 

She turned to fully face him, searching his expression, his eyes, as though to tell her something. It wasn't that she'd forgotten what had happened, what they'd done, but... 

Oh, God... She never should have allowed it to happen. She never should have come here to his hotel room the night before, but she couldn't help it. Besides, her conscience wouldn't give her a moment's peace. 

Without a word, the blonde diva slipped from the bed. She noticed her clothing instantly and bent at the knees to retrieve them from the floor. 

Christian watched her longingly, his gaze staying on her lovely form and every tiny movement she made. She was like a golden goddess. But then, as she slipped the robe over her shoulders and then her dainty feet into her slippers, he took note of the anxiety on her face. 

"Trish?" he said softly. Why did he feel a sudden, unpleasant knot twisting his stomach? 

"I'm sorry, Christian," she stammered. "I really have to be going." There was a slight quaver in her voice, one the blond man didn't like at all. 

"Are you okay?" He practically jumped up from the bed, not the least bit aware of his nudity until the woman's gaze swept over his body - until she tore her eyes away. 

Why was she suddenly acting so cold and distant? 

"I just... I have to go," she spoke. Then, turning back toward him, she continued, anguish or something like it in those big brown eyes of hers. "I'm so sorry, Christian - but last night really never should have happened." 

Ice cold horror gripped the blond man's very soul. He recognized this feeling - it was exactly identical to the way he'd felt years ago, the first time she'd walked out on him. 

"No," he said with despair. "No, Trish, you can't-" 

"I'm sorry, Christian," she repeated, keeping her back to him so he wouldn't see the moisture welling up in her eyes. "I've got to go." Then, before he could stop her in any way, the little blonde rushed to the door. 

Trish's tears spilled down over her cheeks as she briskly made her way down the hall - where she knew she would completely lose control. 

Part 8 

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	8. Chapter 8

Trish sat huddled almost within herself in the locker room, intense guilt wracking the entirety of her tiny form as her mind worked almost overtime.

She felt so awful about Christian - about what she'd done to him. She knew how deeply in love with her he still was, and yet, she still managed to break his heart - again. How low could she get? It wasn't the first time but the second. Hadn't she learned anything from the past?

The little blonde sighed miserably, her heart breaking. She couldn't keep doing this, couldn't continue lying to herself. She was still in love with Christian. Had she not been, she never would have gone to him the previous night, certainly never would have made love to him.

She bent over, lowering her head to her knees and gripped a handful of her long hair. What was she going to do? She couldn't continue on with this facade of dancing around with Chris Jericho, not when she knew she still loved Christian.

She looked up abruptly, nearly jumping as the door opened and Jericho stepped inside. He was walking quite gingerly, as his knee had been in pretty bad shape lately, thanks to the monster Kane. He hadn't been in action ever since the previous week on RAW when he'd faced The Big Red Machine, but he was still traveling with the RAW roster.

Trish remained still and silent as she glanced up at the blond man. She held her breath as she realized he could see clearly how upset she was. Of course, the next thing would be that he would question her. If that happened, she would have no choice... Hell, she had no choice regardless! She had to say something.

"What's wrong, babe?" the man asked, concern etched on his face. He knelt in front of her, and Trish stiffened, instictively shifting over slightly. Then, Chris' hand was on her face, against her cheek.

She shook her head, not knowing exactly what to say. It would be so hard to explain to him. He didn't know of her past with Christian - no one really did - so, how could she explain it?

"It's just... I'm hurting a little, Chris." That really wasn't exactly a lie. The only thing was that her pain was emotional, not physical.

Jericho's hand clenched into a fist.

It's that creepy little bastard, isn't it?"

The little blonde looked up sharply at his words, frowning as she wondered how he'd found out. And then, her heart still pounding hard and fast, she settled down somewhat as she realized he was referring to Christian having put her in the Walls of Jericho the other night.

She couldn't reply.

"Because if you're still hurting because of what he did, I'll tear his damn head off!" the blond man yelled.

Trish winced as she thought about the friendship the two blond men had once shared - how horribly it had deteriorated over the last couple of months, and why? It was all because of her. It was her fault. How could she have ever blamed Christian for being upset? How could she possibly have done that when she'd always known how he felt about her?

"Oh, sweetie... come here," Chris crooned. He stood up and gently pulled her up with him by her hand, wrapping his arms around her petite form. "I'm sorry you're in pain, baby. I wish I could take it all away."

Despite herself, the blonde woman held onto Jericho as well, but her head swam with visions of Christian - those blue eyes, gazing over her form and gently drinking her in tenderly, his hands, so soft and gentle as they caressed her cheek, her hair, her body, his passionate intensity yet gentleness and generosity as he made love to her... It was all enough to bring tears to her eyes - again.

Trish hated herself at that very moment. She hated herself more than she could have ever imagined possible - because while she'd promised herself she would talk to Jericho, she kept cursedly silent. And Christian's sorrow-filled face kept penetrating her thoughts, haunting her.

Part 9

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	9. Chapter 9

_Two Weeks Later_

Trish sighed as she tended to her own personal needs in the hotel bathroom. She was standing in front of the sink, eyeing her reflection as she brushed her long damp blonde hair.

She was not at all lost on the fact that her eyes were dull and lifeless, not full of their usual spark and brightness. She looked miserable, and it perfectly matched her mood from over the last couple of weeks. And why not? She was a wretch - not to mention, a coward. She'd had her chance to tell Chris the truth - but she'd blown it and kept her mouth shut.

Trish knew she could no longer live through the facade. Now that she acknowledged the truth, it just wasn't fair to continue on like this. She wasn't in love with Jericho... It was Christian she loved. She'd loved the other man the entire time, and for so long.

And yet, why had she rejected the short-haired blond man after that night they'd spent together two weeks earlier? She knew she had no definite answer to that question. She was confused, full of turmoil... After the rejection, how or why would Christian ever trust her again?

The little blonde scowled at her reflection in the mirror. She'd fallen back into her old pattern, and history had repeated itself - only this time, she'd ditched the love of her life over for his best friend, not his boss.

A surge of self-hatred so fierce it almost terrified her suddenly coming, Trish tossed the hairbrush aside, her hands violently sweeping all the items on the sink to the floor. Bottles and jars crashed on the cool tiles, and perfume suddenly hit her nostrils strongly - she'd smashed her small bottle of Eternity to smithereens. Her electric toothbrush clattered to the floor, most likely breaking in the process.

She let out an anguished cry as she kept knocking everything to the floor, her tiny body animated in her combination of rage and grief.

Finally, exhausted, Trish sank to the bathroom floor, weak, defeated. Sobs wracked her small form with an awful, overwhelming harshness. God, it hurt so badly.

Wails escaped her as she sprawled out on the floor, her left cheek cool as it rested against the tiles. Her tears flowed so fast, easily, wetting the floor as she wept. She was so stupid... It was true, what people said about her - she _was_ a bitch!

The blonde was not of right mind. She hadn't been of her right mind ever since that day. And in all the time between the breakup and her bittersweet reunion with Christian, she felt only half-alive.

Trish winced, the tears still falling as an even more recent memory came to her. Just two days earlier, at the arena, hungry, she'd gone to catering, but she'd halted just in the doorway. He'd been the sole person in the room, sitting at a lonely table, his back to her. The slump of his shoulders and the downcast position of his head spoke volumes...

... He was a man suffering from a broken heart.

She'd stood there watching him silently for what felt like long, eternal moments, ignoring the grumbling of her empty stomach. She hadn't gone in to get food at that time, either, as when all four members of Evolution suddenly approached, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sounds of their voices. Randy Orton ogled her in a very obvious manner as they passed, but she was grateful they didn't verbally address her and thus draw Christian's attention. And so, Trish had hurried from the area before her longtime love had become any the wiser to her watching him.

Trish sobbed weakly as she remained in her prone position on the bathroom floor. She hurt so badly, she thought she wanted to die.


	10. Chapter 10

Trish huddled almost within herself on the hotel room bed. She was still full of misery over her situation - a situation she had put herself into.

She was still deceiving Chris. He knew absolutely nothing of her recent night with Christian, let alone her past with him. It felt almost like a lifetime ago since they'd been a couple, but all those feelings came rushing back to her in the midst of the love triangle.

Jericho had invited her to go out to dinner and a movie afterward. The little blonde had sadly declined. Going out might have taken her mind off her troubles if it had been a night with the girls, but this wouldn't have worked. Being with Chris would have been a tormentous reminder of what she was doing to him, and to Christian.

Christian... She wondered what he was doing that night, at that very moment. The not-so-distant memory of his agony-filled face, his teary blue eyes, tore at her heart. It seemed that anytime he was unhappy, _she_ had everything to do with it. Why didn't he understand that they were just no good together? Or, more aptly, she was no good for him - or maybe anyone. After all, Chris would eventually have to find out what was going on, and then she would have yet another broken heart left behind her.

Trish bit her lip and rose from the bed. She had to go see him and talk. If she saw him tonight, at least she could officially put things to rest once and for all. That morning didn't count because she'd been so cowardly and just left with apologies.

Well, this time would be different. She squared her shoulders and edged to the hotel room door, exiting with the keycard in her hand. She fingered its plastic edges nervously as she meandered down the hallway to his room.

Again, she bit her lip as she knocked on the door. There was no immediate response, and she wondered if he was actually out. Christian had never been one to party all that much, so she squashed that thought. More likely, he was doing the exact same thing she'd been doing moments earlier - brooding alone in his room.

She knocked again, rapping lightly, but loudly enough to be heard. Sighing, she called to him.

"Christian, it's me."

This time, she detected the unmistakable sound of someone creeping towards the door. Locks were undone and then it was opened, and he gazed out at her. Their eyes instantly met.

"Trish," he breathed. He was shocked to see her standing there. She was a most welcome vision as he drank her in, her long blonde hair loose and slightly mussed. She was wearing a white tank top and pink jogging pants with white trim running down the outer sides of the legs. She looked a bit tired but breathlessly beautiful. And she was about the last person he would have expected.

"Hi," she said softly, and by some miracle, she somehow managed a tiny smile. Of course, she was not at all feeling it. How could she when she was here for the purpose of breaking his heart for the third time? _But he's better off_, she told herself. _He's far better off without me in his life_.

Christian stepped aside as he held the door open slightly wider. She could barely look at him as she stepped inside, her arms wrapping around herself as though she felt a chill.

Finally, the moment he closed the door, she managed to raise her head. Meeting his deep pools of blue, she shuddered inside. How on earth was she ever going to be able to do this? The blonde realized that she didn't even possess the strength. She thought she had, but she'd always been so weak where hurting this man was concerned...

... And yet, why was it that she'd always managed to do it so effortlessly?

"Christian, I... I came here to talk to you. Seriously," she began.

The short-haired blond man eyed her with such tenderness in his orbs, she nearly burst into tears. Slowly, he shook his head. There was a definite melancholy about him, perhaps more so than usual.

"Okay... I'm actually surprised, though."

"Huh?" Trish's breath caught in her throat as she gave him a questioning look. Her heart was hammering in her chest at his nearness as well as for what she was minutes from telling him.

He shrugged as he continued.

"I'm surprised that you stopped by... After this morning, I figured..." Christian let his voice trail off as he was unable and unwilling to finish the thought.

The petite blonde raised a hand to her lips. She honestly felt like crap and didn't know what to say.

"Oh."

There was a brief bout of silence between them, and she raised her gaze so that it took in his handsome yet sad face. His sorrow just about broke her heart.

"So... What did you want to talk to me about?" the Canadian man questioned.

Trish glanced down, her willpower demanding against letting go of the tears she was suddenly holding back. She couldn't go through with this. She didn't have it in her to do it - not again. Instead, she closed the small distance between them and shocked even herself by her actions and words.

"Christian, I..." Her hands were suddenly on him, and she was up on her tiptoes, her face so near his that he could feel her sweet, warm breath on his chin. "... I love you."

He closed the remainder of the distance and crashed his lips on hers in a hungry fit of passion.


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: Well, because it took me forever and a day to start updating this story again, I have no idea if anyone is still reading it. Anyway, if you are, I would really appreciate some new reviews! ;)_**

Chris Jericho tapped his foot impatiently, his gaze going to his watch for the umpteenth time. Where the hell was she? They had agreed on meeting down here in the lobby an hour before checkout time to go train at the arena for awhile before the evening's show. She was already a quarter of an hour late, and the blond man wondered if she'd simply forgotten.

Y2J was contemplating just leaving when he suddenly heard her voice calling. She was running toward him, her wheeled  
suitcase behind her as she tugged it along. Her long blonde hair was damp as it flew off her shoulders and behind her as she ran.

"Chris, wait!"

He stopped and allowed Trish to catch up with him. She was out of breath by the time she did so, and he scanned her over quickly from head-to-toe. She smelled fresh and clean from a very recent shower.

"You're late, Stratus."

She looked almost forelorn as she stared up at him, her brown eyes like those of a puppy.

"I know. I'm sorry, Chris," she murmured. Inside, she was cringing. If he only knew the reason for her tardiness... She knew he would despise her. She honestly didn't want that. She'd really grown to depend on him and valued him as a friend, as a person.

"No harm done, sleepyhead," Jericho teased with a winning smile. "C'mon, you ready for some training?"

"Sure thing."

Trish bit her lip as she followed him out of the hotel. She felt guilty and decided that once they arrived at the arena, she was going to have to break it off with him. It wasn't fair to string him along anymore. He was a decent, good man and deserved someone who appreciated him as much as Christian did her. She recalled the way she and the other blond Canadian had spent their morning together.

_She woke up in his arms, warmth rushing through her as she opened her eyes to him. He was already awake, and, from the looks of it, had been peacefully watching her for awhile._

"Hey, you," she murmured. For some reason unknown to her, she didn't experience that now familiar emptiness inside of her in this scenario. Instead, she felt all good, warm and fuzzy. She snuggled up against him, her blonde hair fanning out as she lay her head on his chest.

With his arm still securely around her, he held her even closer and leaned down just enough to lay a sweet kiss on her forehead. He smiled.

"Hey yourself."

She caressed his arm as she simply laid there happily and smiled, listening to his heartbeat. She loved him. She knew that all too well. And she wanted to be with him again, for real and not by playing childish games. She was getting too old for that, anyway. And that was when she decided she was going to tell Chris the truth - the sooner, the better.

A few moments of comfortable silence between them later, she raised her head enough so that she could peer into his soft blue eyes.

"Christian? I'm sorry for everything I've put you through."

He met her gaze but didn't speak.

"I'm not going to do it anymore. I love you, and you alone," she assured him.

His face seemed to brighten with hope. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he posed the question on his mind.

"Are you saying you're going to come back to me?"

She nodded slowly, then with a bit more vigor.

"I am. And I'm never going to leave you again," she promised. "I... I'm going to tell Chris all... That it's over between us." She shook her head sadly. "I can't keep living a lie." She glanced around the room, suddenly noticing the time as it glinted off the tiny portable digital clock Christian brought on the road with him. "My goodness, it's getting late," she said. "I should-" She started to get up, but the blond man held her back against him.

"Shh... Trish," he whispered, "stay with me awhile longer." He hugged her against him, and he pressed another kiss to her brow. "I just want to hold you for awhile."

She closed her eyes at the sweetness of his voice. No one else had ever been close to making her feel the way he did. There was just something about him, always had been. She settled back, holding tightly to him and just listened to his heartbeat. She wished they could just stay like that forever.

As they entered the arena, fully intent on going to the ring for a small training session, Chris eyed her.

"You're so quiet this morning," he remarked. "That's not like you."

Trish shot her head up sharply to him. There was no use in prolonging it any longer. Chris Jericho was a good guy. He just didn't happen to be the one with whom she was truly in love. He deserved the truth, and sooner rather than later. The way she saw it, the sooner she told him, the sooner it would be that he would have the chance to find that one special woman who would love him like he deserved, who could be 'the one' for him.

They entered the ringside area, and he nodded at her to go into the squared circle. He had another match against Kane later that night, and she was hoping to get back into number one contendership for the Women's title. As Victoria had so recently won the gold from Molly Holly, she saw absolutely no reason why the current champion wouldn't agree to give her a shot.

The little blonde bent over at the waist, stretching out a bit as she watched Chris enter the ring. Somehow, she had the feeling they wouldn't get any training done once she started talking.

"Chris? I think we really need to talk..."


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N: Thanks to TrishOrton for still being interested in this story, and for reviewing the last chapter. :)_**

"I don't... I don't understand."

Chris shook his head in despair, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. "I thought that everything was going so well."

Trish eyed him sadly, hating the fact that he was hurting... And it was because of her. She had just told him it was over, but what choice did she have? She was in love with someone else.

"Chris, it's not you - it's _me_," she said, hating how lame that sounded. Although true, it was such a cliche excuse.

Jericho met her brown eyes squarely, his own clear blue clearly filled with hurt. He shook his head. It just didn't seem right, not like something Trish would do.

"Did someone put you up to this?" he asked. For some reason, a vision of RAW General Manager Eric Bischoff's smug face came to him. He knew how the man felt about both of them and that he would have no qualms about forcing them to split up.

The blonde diva shook her head.

"No, Chris... I swear." She bit her lip as she came away from the turnbuckles against which she'd been leaning. "There's... more I need to tell you." She gazed up into his face pleadingly. "Just... _please_ don't get too mad," she begged. "This is my fault, anyway."

Y2J frowned and studied her more intently. Suspicion began to course through him as he wondered exactly what she was getting at. Before she could continue, he cut in. He had to know.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" he said, more rhetorically than needing an actual answer.

Trish bowed her head, fearful to allow him a view of her face. At the same time, she knew she was so transparent at that very moment. Only an idiot would not be able to see right through her to the truth. And Chris Jericho was most certainly no idiot.

"Chris..." She reached out and took hold of his arm. "... I should have told you from the get-go. I-I have... a lot of history with this guy, and I knew I was still in love with him," she said. "I didn't realize I still did, but after you and I got so close-"

"_Then_ you came to the realization that you still love this jerk?!" he demanded. At this point, his voice was laced with anger as well as the hurt that was still present. "Well, that's just great, Trish." He stared at her, wondering why it was that he hadn't pulled his arm out of her grasp yet. "Okay, so don't keep me in suspense any longer... Who is he?"

Trish bowed her head again, and this time, fear was her most prevalent emotion - not for herself, but for him. She swallowed hard, ridding her throat of the lump that had formed, then raised her head, meeting his eyes directly.

"Christian." She spoke the name so softly, even _she_ could barely hear it.

"What?" Jericho damn near did a double-take. "It's Christian? _Please_ tell me you're joking!"

That same pleading expression was back on the diva's face, but she couldn't utter a word now. And she didn't have to as the blond man knew he'd heard her correctly and that this was no joke.

"That little assclown!" he yelled, his hands balling into fists. "I'll beat the living daylights out of him!" For emphasis, he smashed his right hand into the top turnbuckle on the other side of the ring.

Trish stared at him with a combination of shock, regret and horror. She wanted in the worst way to close her eyes and have all of this just go away. Jericho was furious, just as she knew he would be... But he couldn't take it all out on Christian. And she knew this was the right thing to do. It hadn't been fair for him to keep thinking all was right and rosy between them.

"Chris, no!" she protested, her hands out as she made her way toward him. Reluctantly, she touched him on the shoulder, his back to her. "Please don't... I... I _know_ you're mad as hell right now, but beating up Christian won't solve anything."

He whirled around to face her, his crystal blue eyes cold, which scared her.

"It _won't_? Well, it'd solve one very _big_ problem I have right now," he snapped. "That 'problem' being that I wanna kick his ass!"

The little blonde winced and shook her head.

"No... It won't make anything better, or any different." She cocked her head as she tried to appeal to him. "Please, Chris..." she breathed. "I know I'm probably your least favorite person now, after all this, but _please_... for me. Don't."

Jericho stared at her, deeply into those twin chocolate orbs. He sighed, softening just a bit. It seemed an impossible task, but he would listen to her for now and not do anything. Still, he knew before long, he would at the very least challenge his former friend to a match, man-to-man. He couldn't believe this betrayal. But then, Christian hadn't been his friend in awhile, so it really wasn't _he_ who'd betrayed him.

"Fine," he said evenly, no traces of warmth left on his face. "Listen... I hope you and Christian will be very happy together." He gave her one last stern look before leaving the ring and leaving Trish behind.


End file.
